Not To Be Forgotten
by Ariel In The Impala
Summary: Post Season 8 Finally... may have spoilers... After The Angels fell From heaven, the Prison Broke loose, All those angels falling as well. One Angel, determined to find an old friend, Needs the help of the Winchester's to clear her name, and save her life. Maybe some possible Destiel later.
1. Indroduction

I was falling. Falling was easy. It was like flying, and God knows it has been far too long since I have been able to do that.

My velocity sped as I hurtled towards the ground, until I landed. Well, I say "landed". It was more like sliding to a stop over gravel and broken pieces of glass from abandoned beer bottles. Wearily, I stood up and looked over my body. Crimson red blood seeped through cuts on my hands, knees, and stomach. I closed my eyes and focused all the energy I could muster into healing my wounds, but the painful sting told me it didn't work. This vessel had been through a lot, but human things such as scrapes had never bothered me before. This was an indication that something was wrong.

I began walking, unsteady at first, but regaining my balance with every step. There was nothing around me. No trees, no houses, no civilization of any sorts. Just gravel, and beyond that, desert like plains with dead grass lying in clumps. I didn't know where I was. I didn't know where I was going. I had only one thought running through my mind.

_Castiel. _


	2. Nevada Whispers

**AN: I still haven't come up with a normal posting schedule, so sorry if this is later than most. This chapter has some more mature content, so sorry if you get offended. Also, some certain hunters are going to be coming into the story very quickly, so stayed tune. Please review guy your reward for reviewing is… A Basket of Kittens and your very own Castiel! Anyways… on to the chapter. _**

The further I walked, the more fatigued I became. I eventually found my way to a road I silently prayed, to whoever may be listening, that I would soon find civilization. I stood at the side of the road with my thumb in the air, and waited for a car to stop me by.

After about twenty minutes, a car slowed to a stop in front of me. A large, black, ford pick-up truck with tented windows. The passenger side window slid down, revealing a large, gruff man in a dirty brown tee shirt, and a baseball cap on top of his balding head.

"Need a ride, sweetheart?" The man said, his eyes visibly flicking from my face, to my chest, to my face again. I clutched my plaid over shirt over my white tank top.

"Yes please," I say. He may be a creep, but I need a ride.

"Hop on in," he said. I pulled open the door with ease and climbed in to the front seat. I clicked the seatbelt over my shoulder, and closed my hand over the small blade in my jacket pocket.

"So where are you goin', sweetheart?" He asks, staring at me.

"Just the nearest motel," I replied. I don't have any money, but I don't want to stay in this truck longer than necessary. The man then began to drive while I watched the flat plains zoom past. _

Turns out, we were further in the middle of nowhere than I thought. And even further than my destination. Nevada to be exact. I was in Nevada. I rode silently down the highway while the man played annoying country music. He continually tried to talk to me, but I just kept my face turned away from him. We just passed a highway marker, saying we were on Route 50, which leads to Kansas. I have to go to Kansas.

Lights shining brightly ahead of me, filled me with hope and joy. Arriving, I saw that is was Carson City. We drove a few more minutes before the man pulled into the "Motel 6" parking lot. He turned off the engine and adjusted in his seat to face me.

"So the nearest motel?" He asked.

""Yes, thank you," I replied. I reached and undid my seatbelt. When I try to open the door, I find it's locked.

"DO you really want to stay in there, love? You can stay in here. With me," He said, reaching to cup my face in hi large, fatty hands. Next, he slams his mouth onto mine, licking around my lips, moving his hand to my thigh. I push him off with force, him slamming into the driver's side door.

""Let me out," I said forcibly, trying to hide the wavering in my voice.

"OH no baby. I'll have fun with you," He said. He slid across the bench seat and continued kissing my. I tried to push him off, but failed due to the differences in his large size, and my small frame. His snook a hand up my shirt, and began trying to undo my bra.

Thoughts ran frantically through my head, all of which were trying to find a way out. I reach into my pocket and pull out my blade. In one swift motion I slam it in to this stomach. The light quickly faded from his eyes, and he limply slumped back against the car door.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly as I remove my blade. This blade had caused me so much pain in the past, but it may have very well just saved my life. Oh, the irony.

I reach into his jacket pocket and pull out his phone and wallet. I pocketed $520 and call 911.

"0-1-1-, what's your emergency?" asked a female voice on the other end.

"Yes, I would like to report a dead body, in the motel 6 parking lot of Carson city, Nevada," I say, while wiping the blood off my blade.

"Thank you. Can you tell me your name, please?" She asked.

"Yeah, my name is-" I hung up quickly. I then got out of the car, and walk away. I continued walking.

Awhile later, I find "The Sunrise Motel" and check in. I use the money I stole from the man, and the fake name Amelia Pond. Once I get in the room, I lock the door and collapse on the bed. Fatigue takes over, and I sleep. I dream.


	3. Dreaming of Direction

**AN: I'm back Okay, I think I might try to start posting one or two chapters every other weekend, so please read. This is going to be a really short chapter, but the next is a lot longer. Please, please review. Every time that you review, Dean gets a free pie. A happy Dean is a happy world, so review. Now, On to the words _**

I awoke abruptly the next morning. Sunlight poured into the room, right into my eyes, through the blinds. My leg ached with the memory of last night, and my cuts have already began to heal, but left purple bruises in their wake.

I stood on the cold hardwood floor and stretched. I could hear the soft clicks and cracks of protest from my bones.

What was I supposed to do? I'm poor, have no car, nothing. I began making a mental list of what I needed to do. Food, shower, car, drive. I figure shower will be the easiest, so I start with that.

The motels room bathroom, was more than questionable. The shower was small, there was no toilet paper, and half the lights were out. I left my day old clothes on a pile in the floor, and stepped into o the tub. The water runs down my body in streams, running down my neck, shoulders, and face. I began to relax and lean my cheek against the cool tile wall.

Kansas. I had to go to Kansas. How the hell was I supposed to get to Kansas? Where exactly am I going?

I close my eyes and lean my face further into the line of water.

I finish washing and dry myself with an old scratchy towel that had been left on the bathroom. I didn't have any extra clothes, so I put back on the pair old sun-bleached jeans and my plaid, flannel over shirt, opting not to wear the tank top stained with blood. Standing in front of a mirror, I stare at my reflection. There was a thin cut that ran above my eye brow, and a large bruise on my jaw line. I ran my fingers through my dripping, straight red locks that laid to the small of my back, and framed my narrow face.

My vessel, a nineteen year old named Catherine, lived in Celtic Ireland when Christianity first began to spread in 82 AD. She was devote and near sinless, when she caught the Bubonic plague and began to die. Her final wish was to help serve the Lord. After she left, and her body was vacant, I took over. Since then, it's my body.

I was short. Shorter than most, at least. 5' 4'' at most. Maybe. I wasn't super skinny either. I had a flat, tone stomach, but wide ribs and hips, and a dip in my waist. I am by no means, flat chested. To the point of annoyance, really. But did have pale, porcelain like skin and large deep blue eyes. That was good, I suppose.

I left the bathroom, the hot steam fading into the rest of the room in thick clouds. Screw food. I lay back on the bed and sleep more.

A rode. An empty road with faded lines. On one side, there was a field. On the other, a hill littered with dead leaves and rocks. A large, abandoned building rested ominously on top of the hill. Built into the hill was an old, moldy looking sewage entrance. A familiar symbol was on the front door. I recognized it at once. The men of letters.

I lurched awake, cool sweat drenched my back and made my shirt cling to my skin. That's where I needed to go. Kansas. Lebanon, Kansas. The men of letters? Their hide out was in Lebanon, but they were all dead. Was Castiel at the bunker? I need to find him. He is the only one that ca help me. He knows me, and he knows I'm innocent. He can help.

I have to go. Now. I grab my array of knives and blades off the bedside table, and put them into the pocket of my old leather jacket. I leave, without leaving anything behind. I left the door ajar and stepped into the sun. The "Sunrise" sign loomed above me, and left a long shadow on the rest of the motel. I walked over to a car, a cherry red '69 charger with cams. I discretely pulled out one of my blades, a long, thin, narrow weapon, and slid it down the window to unlock the door. Once I got in, I high jacked the wires to start the car. I began driving. I had a long drive ahead. A whole 20 hours of one.


	4. Sibling Rivalry

**AN: Hey guys… Time for chapter 3 I am super exited, because as I am writing this, it is really coming together (to an extent), but I have written more than I can upload. This is a very short, filler chapter, but the next is much longer. I would also like to personally thank Birdie Biscuits for favoriteing my story! Thank you, and I love you. So, on to the chapter, and don't forget to review. Every time you review, you get a muffin basket and a guanine pig **

20 hours, 7 gas stations, and 3 pieces of pie later, and I can see the Lebanon sign in a short distance. A few lights and a small town could be seen in the horizon. I couldn't help but smile at the sight. I was so close to finding Castiel, I could feel it. My heart pounded just a little bit harder. Castiel. My Castiel. I could really find him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .. . . . . .

Once I got into town, it was like I mentally checked out, another force controlling where I was to go. Auto pilot sort of. Either way, I found my way to the old road in my dream. I pulled to the side of the road, and parked, about half a mile from the bunker door. I could walk the rest of the way, but I any one was following me, a supped- up ride may be a strong indicator. About ¾ the way there, I hear the far too familiar sound. A whirl of wings behind me, and I automatically turn on the spot, blade already in hand. I was surrounded.

"Ah, Zariah. How I have missed you, brother," I said sarcastically to the clear alpha. A tall, thin blond in a pressed suit and a tight bun. Who else would Zariah control?

"Why aren't you dead?" she growled.

"It's always surprising to see who lives in a kill or be killed world, darling," I replied, a cunning smirk across my lips. My wit really was my only defense against these dicks with wings. I was younger, weaker, and overall inferior to my brothers.

"We should have killed you when we had the chance," another angel growled to my left. Zariah took the opportunity to lung at me, angel blade aimed to the middle of my chest. I ran forward towards him/her, and jumped over him…/ her…my foot making contact with their nose, a sickening crack noise as a result Zariah doubled over, holding his now bleeding nose. The other four angels then ran towards me, blades drawn. I slung my arm to the right, slitting the throat of one angel. I plunged my blade into the chest of two others. The fourth extra grabbed me from behind. I twisted around to knee the male in the crotch, and then stabbed him in his back. Zariah, now composed despite the blood pouring from his nose, ran at me again. I tried to dodge the blade, but it pierced my right side and left a gash from my stomach to my back. Blood soon began to flow from my wound, mixed in with my grace. Despite the searing pain, I jumped on Zariah's back, and placed two fingers to his head. A blinding yellow light poured out from Zariah's eyes and mouth. I jumped off his back onto my feet s his limp body hit the ground with a smack.

I put my hand in the tear of my shirt, and it pulled away covered in my blood. I began walking away from the scene. Castiel can help. He can save me.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . … .

The further I walked, the weaker I became because of blood loss. I found the door, and climbed down the slick steps, holding onto the cool bars for support. I knock once. Twice. At the third knock, the door opened to reveal a man with sandy blond hair, and bright green eyes. A look of confusion crossed his tan, freckle covered face. He looked down to my side, which I was clutching, and the blood flowing through my fingers. His eyes widened, but he made no movement to help me.

"Where's Castiel?" I choked out between breaths I was struggling to take. My knees then buckled, and I fell toward the ground. The man caught me in strong arms. My eyes closed, but in a few moments before I lose consciousness, the man's gruff voice calls out.

"Sam!"


	5. The Truth in Whiskey

**AN: SO, this is a really long chapter. And, I wrote it off feels from the season 9 finale (I Am So Dead). Also, I got a new laptop, so I should be able to post more frequently, and regularly. So keep watch for a schedule soon. I would like to personally like to thank camsam17 for favoriting my story. I love you 3 anyways, on with the chapter. Please remember to review, favorite, and follow my story. It makes my meat suit all gooey. (p.s. sorry this is sooooooo late)**

When I awoke, I was lying on a soft bed whom's mattress was conformed to my body. A fleece blanket was tossed over me. I lay on my back, with one hand on my stomach, and the other over my head, handcuffed to the head board. I examined the handcuffs, made out of a strong silver, with demon and angel wardings on them, keeping me in place. I maneuvered to a sitting position and tried to check my wound. My shirt was missing, and a white gauze was wrapped around my torso, from below my navel, to the bottom of my plain black bra.

Two men were leaned on either side of the doorway in front of me, too consumed in their conversation to realize my cautiousness. They spoke in hushed voices, but I could still hear them.

"I don't know, Sammy. We don't even know this chic is," One of them said. The blonde that answered the door, I think.

"Dean, she's hurt, and she passed the salt, silver, and holy water. Just wait for her to wake up, and you can ask her," said the other. Sam. Sam was tall, and muscular, with long brown hair.

"Yeah, just let a girl sleep," I spoke up, my voice cracking due to lack of water. The two men turned and looked at me, too shocked to speak I suppose. Sam, the tall one, left the room. After a few short moments, he returned with a glass filled with a clear liquid, and handed it too me. As son as the liquid touched my lips, I could tell it was holy water, and I drank it all in one gulp. "How abut something a little stronger this time, eh?" I said, giving the glass back to the moose.

"Okay, enough. What are you?" Dean asked, still leaning against the door frame. Sam, on the other hand, had moved to a wooden chair on the right side of my bed.

"A friend," I said.

"A friend?" Dean scoffed.

"Yes," I deadpanned.

"Why are you here?" Sam asked, the obvious bite missing from his voice that was ever so present in Dean's.

"I was looking for someone. I thought they might be here, but I guess I was wrong." I said.

"Cas?" Dean asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly.

"Castiel? Where is he? I he here?" I asked frantically. Sam took one look at Dean, then proceeded to unlock the handcuffs. Rubbing my wrists I said, "I need Castiel."

"How do you know Cas?" Dean asked, tossing me a shirt. It was plaid, and flannel, with a red, black, and white pattern. It was far too big for me, and by the looks of it, it was Dean's.

"An old friend of mine," I said with a small smirk beginning to creep up on my lips. The ghost of a smile faded though. "But now, I need to find him."

"What happened to your stomach? I've never seen a gash like that," Sam said. He still sat in the chair beside me, leaning with his face in his hands, elbows on his knees. He had bright hazel eyes and long brown hair. Almost too long, and he was tall. Definitely too tall. He looked like some kind of human-moose-puppy hybrid.

"I was attacked," I said. "By angels."

"Why?" Dean asked.

"Because, we are all BFFs and were going out for pie," I spat out. The words felt like venom in my mouth as they escaped my tongue. I tried to stand up, but I was still too weak. Sam reacted quickly, standing up and stopping me from falling. He leaned down just enough for me to sling my arm across his shoulders for support. "Because," I said with a groan. "Because, they want me dead."

"From the top?" I asked. We had now relocated to the library. I was sitting in a warm, velvet armchair by a crackling fire. Sam and Dean sat across of me in a small couch. Each of us held a small crystal glass, and half a bottle of Whiskey sat on a small table between us, with wooden oak legs, and a glass table top. The bottle started full. I now knew the boys. Sam and Dean Winchester. The great hunters. Legacies. The idiots that started and stopped the Apocalypse. They told me of Castiel. I can trust them.

"The very top," Dean said. He then grabbed the bottle of Whiskey and refilled his own glass. I reached out my own, and he refilled that as well.

"Well, my name is Aleaha, and I am an angel of the Lord," I say, taking a long sip from my glass. The room is quiet. Both boys wear a look of, I don't know what the hell it means. It made my uncomfortable though. I move to adjust in my chair, slowly however, due to my wounds. I continued.

"Um.. well, as you know angels are solders. messengers of God. Well, each angel was created for an individual purpose as well. Lucifer was created to be the angel of music. After Lucifer disobeyed, his positions had to be filled. Rafiel stepped up and took Luci's place as archangel, but God still wanted a new angel of music. Someone to be a muse, if you will." I drained the rest of my glass, and refilled it once again.

"All the angels were created at the same time. All the same age. Well, God then created a new angel, to fill the empty position. He created me." I took a deep breath. I have never told this story to anyone. Not all of it. Its not a happy story. I look over at Dean, and he gives me a small nod, urging me to continue. It was also a nod of understanding. I didn't have to continue. But in reality, I did.

"It was odd. Everyone knew me. I was the baby, and everyone treated me like it. But, that was fine. I did my job, and I loved it. I brought new genres into the world. Introduced them to humanity. Grunge, Alternative, metal. Mostly classic rock, though." I could see Dean visibly perk up at the fact. With a laugI kept talking. "Being the baby girl, no one took me seriously. Well, except Castiel," I said. I could feel a lump in my throat. I drank the rest of my glass, but instead of refilling it, I grabbed the glass bottle off of the table. The bottle was only a fourth of the way full now, so I didn't see a point. I took a swig of the alcohol and felt the bitter taste burn down my throat, and warm my chest. The oldest Winchester looked at me with a blank, emotionless stare, while his little brother tried not to laugh at my drinking habits. I took another sip, and kept telling my story.

"Castiel. When God created the humans, he told the angels to love them more than to love him. Castiel was the only one that did. He truly did. God put Castiel's garrison in charge of watching over humanity because of him." A fond smile crept up on my lips, and a similar one on Dean's. I took a mental note of this.

"Castiel and I became... close friends. He taught me how to love humanity. He taught me how to love at all. And i did love. I accidentally loved him," I said. A small tear fell from my eye and I quickly wiped it away. Dean's smile faded and he stiffened in his chair. Sam, on the other hand, leaned forward, and relaxed more. It wasn't hard to tell who trusted me more.

"Castiel and I were soon... together..." I said slowly. Another tear slips down my cheek, but I allow it to fall on the bottle of Whiskey. I took another long swig and, again, I continue.

"We kept it a secret though. Angels should never feel emotion. Ever. We met in secret, but eventually someone found out, and we were reported to Naomi. I'm not sure who, but my money is on Zachariah. When Naomi found out, she panicked. No angels have ever been in love before. I was a first. She separated us, and held us in "court" I guess you could say. she deemed me guilty, and had me locked up. Castiel was to valuable to rot, so she wiped his memories. He couldn't remember me." tears now flowed freely, and I let them all fall. I felt so stupid crying about this, but I know what happened next.

"I was tourchered. For a couple million years, ecxept it felt like an eternity. If you thought Alistar was bad with a razor, imagine him ten times worse, and with an angel blade. That was Zaradel. I was tourchered every second of every fucking day, and the worst part? The worst part was knowing Castiel could never save me." i took a deep breath and drained the rest of the bottle. Sam leaned forward and placed one of his over large hands on my small, folded ones. The touch was comforting, and reassuring.

"How did you get out?" Dean asked, interrupting the silence. Sam then turned away, leaving a cold empty feeling on my skin.. I wiped my cheek and forced the tears to no longer fall.

"I don't know," I said, my voice sounding hard. "I awoke one night to the sound of chaos. When I checked my cell door, it was unlocked. All the prisoners were fighting amongst themselves. I took the opportunity to run. I got to the weaponry and loaded my pockets with all the blades I could hold. I had to fight my way out, but there was no way out. The next thing I now, and I'm running for my life from this blue ray of light and all the ther angels are gone. I found a door, but it was locked, and the light caught up with me. Then, I was falling to earth. In Nevada. So I stole a car, and drove here." I finished. I looked down at the Claudia ring on my finger, and twist it around, waiting for a response.

"And you were attacked because your a wanted criminal?" Dean spoke up after a long silence. I nodded in response. "Well, Damn," He said, leaning back onto the couch.

"Okay, do you know any angel warding symbols that will allow you to stay?" Sam said, standing up.

"Well, you could use my blood," I said, standing to join him. I walked over to a book case, and pulled down a few books on a shelf at my eye level. I placed the books on the wooden table.

"Okay, lets get started," said Dean. Both boys moved over to oin me standing sround the table. They both towered over me in stature by quite a few inches.

"What about Castiel? He wouldn't be able to sense the bunker anymore." I say, holding one of my angel blades in my palm, ready to draw blood. Sam and Dean shared a look, and Dean left the room. Before a word was spoken, Dean returned with a bottle of red contents and a corkscrew enclosing it in the glass. "Dear God, please tell me that's wine," I say

"Nope," Dean replied with a smirk. "Left overs from ganking a dick,"

"Seriously?" I ask with a grin.

"Yeah, leviathan. The leader took over a man named Dick Roman," Sam said.

"With a laugh, I pull the blade across the inside of my hand, the red liquid pooling into my palm. I squeeze the blood into a bowl with Castiel's blood, our grace, that I can see, mixing together, and swirling into a pale purple color. Sam hands me a piece of gauze, similar to the ones around my stomach, and I wrap my hand with it. Then, I walk to the front door, through the kitchen, the living area, and the foyer. Once I was at the door, I used the blood to draw an angel warding symbol on the door. Then, for good measure, a calling symbol. It would only work for Castiel and I, because its in our blood.

"What symbols are those?" asked a voice behind me. I knew it was Sam before I turned around because it didn't sound like gravel on toast. Sam's voice was smoother, and a bit deeper in pitch. I turned to face him, but bumped into him, spilling the blood concoction all over the both of us.

"Oh my God! I am so sorry," I said quickly, feeling my face heat. I knew I was blushing a deep crimson color. Sam and I both leaned down at the same time to pick up the now empty bowl, promptly smacking our heads together. "Dear God! I'm so sorry... again," I say as Sam hands me the bowl with a smirk.

"It's fine. This isn't the first time I have been covered in someone elses blood," He said. I knew trhis was a joke about being a hunter, so despite it not being very funny, I laugh with him. I walk over, and put the empty bowl on a table , and turn to look at Sam. He was really tall. The top of my head only reached to about his collar bone, and he looked down at me with kind eyes that had a look in them that labeled him a hunter, or a solider, but I knew better.

"You need a new shirt, don't you?" he asked, his eyes not leaving mine. We stayed in eye lock, in our own little world, without the outside world around us. From the outside, the look would of seemed lust filled, and wanting, but in reality, it was nothing like that. The look portrayed something as understanding, trust, and slight curiosity. A look that made my stomach turn in a way it only had once before.

"Um- yeah... I don't have any clothes here" I said awkwardly, looking down at our feet.

"Well, that's something we are going to have to change that if you're going to stay here."


End file.
